Turning cartwheels under August’ dusk,
The gentle aroma from the blossoms musk,
The stillness lays the day to rest,
As the sun finishes it’s daily quest,

Time again we’ve bore witness to this,
This beauty of a summers kiss,
Right here under this very tree,
I’ve passionate memories of you and me,

You always said this was the place,
Your absolutely favourite space,
You’d say “Make sure that I’m beautifully dressed,”
“Then under my tree lay me to rest”

So here you are my gentle bird,
My throat is dry and my eyes are blurred,
But your sleeping where you longed to be,
No longer standing next to me.

Nothing will ever be the same,
Never again will you say my name,
As much as I’m glad your finally free,
I’ll never hold you under our tree.

There’s nothing left for me to see,
There’s nowhere else I need to be,
Tomorrow I’ll be there with you,
Because I’ve made sure that there’s room for two.